South Park Alcohol is Bad!
by TajiYami
Summary: Part four is up! Pizza, booze, and strippers, happy 18th Bday Stan, from Kenny. oh yeah, and some slashy on the side KxSxK?
1. Part 1

Ok, not my usual thing, but it's been an idea that has been bugging me for a while. Some slashy goodness between Stan x Kenny later, may have later chapters with other pairings, rated T for now, just in case, but the rating may go up (P) Enjoy

Alcohol is bad, especially if you have a history of alcoholism in your family, and you live in a town where the best thrill lurks at the bottom of a bottle. Throw in some raging teenage hormones, and a very manipulatively cruel friend, and strange things are bound to happen.

-----------------------

**South Park**

**Alcohol is Bad!**

(Kenny's POV)

_**Part 1**_

"_What would you do for $100?"_

_There is a lot of things I would do for $100. I know the other guys would laugh at me, and probably wouldn't let me live it down. In fact, I'm almost certain if I did anything really stupid, Cartman would end up posting it on the internet, and everyone in the world would know. Honestly though, I don't see what the big deal is. I'm not really one to think about what other people think about me. That's petty and a waste of time. The only time it's not worth it is if it's going to lead to someone else getting hurt. I can care less if I hurt myself, I've already died and gone to heaven. . and hell. Though there was this one thing I did, that I sort of regret. . _

**Stan's Big Birthday Slash. . **_I mean_** Bash**

It was October the 18th. I remember that because it was right before Stan's birthday. It had been a chilly day, not cold enough to be completely bundled up, but cold enough that it was snowing, and had been since the day before. Kyle, Cartman, and I had been planning a birthday surprise for Stan, since he was just about to turn 18. The three of us met before lunch to discuss what we were going to do.

Cartman looked like he was going to bust forth with some great idea. He had changed a lot in the past several years. He had lost all his baby fat, and was lean and well muscled. His brunette hair was worn long, and slightly spiked in the front, and the girls usually described him as having puppy-dog eyes. He was a linebacker on the varsity football team, and seemed to be in constant competition over the cheerleaders with Stan, who was the quarterback. It was a well known fact that, besides the cheerleaders, almost every girl in the school would give anything to fuck him. Despite his difference in figure, his attitude had not changed much. He still hated Kyle, was still obsessed with money, and was very reliable when it came to devious plans and the complete manipulation of another person, or just a witty half ass come-back to shoot some loser down. "I know what we can do," he said impatiently as I sidled over and leaned against the lockers, lighting a cigarette casually.

"You really shouldn't be smoking that shit dude," Kyle said, giving me a disgusted look as I exhaled some of the smoke, "It's really gonna kill you some day," he added as an after thought, his emerald green eyes scanning over me disapprovingly. Kyle had changed too. He was only a little shorter than me, and thin as a rail. His despised red Jew-fro from when we were kids had been replaced by a straighter, more spiked look. Unlike Cartman and Stan, he fell more into the category of 'nerd', and wasn't nearly as popular with the ladies, plus his lingering anger management issues usually drove off most prospective girls. That and his nagging habit of telling people what they should and shouldn't do. I stared at him blankly as he took the offending cigarette from me and held it out in front of me to see it.

"Dude," I said softly, "out of all the years I have known you, and all the 1228 times that I have died, you can not possibly believe for a moment that I really am worried about something like the possibility of dying." Me, I had changed too. I no longer tried to hide myself in my parka, in fact, I haven't even looked at the thing for a while now. It's too small anyway, and the black and orange hoodie I have now seems to suit me much better anyway. I grew up tall and thin, and of the four of us, I was the tallest (and thinnest, due to perpetual malnutrition and hyperactive metabolism). Admittedly, most people referred to me as being the biggest pervert in South Park, and maybe I am. There's nothing wrong with liking girls a lot. Aside from the smoking and being very, very attracted to the nude female form, I wasn't anything bad, or anything special. I shrug slightly, staring back at my friends. Kyle tosses the cigarette away, and we both look over at Cartman.

Cartman, feeling it is finally his time to talk grins deviously and starts, "well, you guys know how bummed Stan's been since that whole Wendy-dumps-Stan-cause-she's-a-fuckin'-hoe-bee-yatch-and-starts-throwin'-herself-at-random-guys thing?" he looked at us expectantly, and I nod in turn with Kyle. "Let's take him to the fuckin' strip club, that one on the edge of town you work at Kenny! That would cheer him up and get him to start actin' like his old hippie self again."

I realized after about half a minute that I was just staring at Cartman, dumbfounded. I blinked and shook my head, "What the hell Cartman?"

"No dude, it will be schweet, sheriouslay," he insisted.

"Fuck that Cartman, there's no way in hell we can get Stan there, and no way they would let us in. you gotta be 21," Kyle snapped.

"Kenny could get us in," Cartman said, and both of them looked at me. The both knew that I had been working at that particular strip club for a few months now, and I knew through listening to some of their conversations they were both jealous and curious to see what I got to see.

I look back and forth between the both of them, "I don't know Cartman, it's no. ."

"But Kennayee," he whined, dragging out my name for emphasis on what he was saying, "we gotta go for the sake of Stannn."

Kyle covered his face with his hand and let out a groan, "you just want to go to see naked women," he mumbled.

"Ok," I said, "I'll get us in."

"Hooray."

"Ah, Jesus."

-----------------------

That night was quiet enough. I was busying myself with drafting up a simple enough plan to get us into the strip club the next night in which we would be allowed to see the show, get alcohol, and not have to worry about our parents. It was simple really. I designed up some rather authentic looking id cards for my friends, knowing the fake id I currently had was good enough, and determined that if we wanted to avoid any suspicious parents, all we had to do was say we were coming back to my place after taking Stan out for his birthday. It wouldn't be totally lying, and a plus was that the phone had just recently been turned off. The only parents I really needed to worry about was Stan's, who probably wouldn't even notice, and Kyle's. His mom is a bitch, and such a challenge to con. By the time 3:30am had arrived, I had finished with the id cards, just in time for the power to go out. "Damnit!" I mutter and pick up the flashlight I keep faithfully on my desk. I look over the cards, decide they look good enough, and then climb into bed, not bothering to change my clothes. With the electricity out, the next few hours before school were going to get cold. "They musta forgot about the fuckin' electric bill again. ."

-----------------------

By the time morning arrived, I felt like I was half frozen. I was awakened by the sound of my mom and dad getting into a fight, arguing about money, or rather lack there of, and the fact that nothing worked. I also heard mom say something about the waffles melting. _Might as well go brave the storm, _ I thought to myself and reluctantly pulled the worn blanket away from my body, and got out of bed. The bare floor was cold on my feet as I went to the bathroom. Unfortunately, it seemed the water was off again to, so I had to ignore the fact that I was not the first person to have used the bathroom that morning, and the whole house smelled like shit. I peeked in the broken mirror on the way out of the bathroom and took a moment to brush down my unruly blonde hair. It was long enough now to brush my shoulders, and nearly covered my pale blue eyes. I let out a sigh, noticing how pale I looked, and frowned at myself before leaving the room, _I'm not going to die today, or get sick damnit._

I quickly made my way out of the house, going though my natural routine of dodging various flying objects, as well as ones laying on the ground. Mom was kicking dad's ass again, and it was a surprise no one had called the cops about the disturbances. Officer Barbrady probably wouldn't come out if anyone did though. "You sorry sonuvabitch," mom yelled, and I dodged to my left to avoid a well tossed bottle of beer, one that still had some of the alcohol in it. The bottle shattered on impact and I looked back at them, "Oh, hi Kenny. Behave at school today. Damnit Stuart, get yer worthless ass back here!"

I left the house and crossed the tracks into the good part of town and walked to the bus stop. It was the same bus stop as had always been when I was a kid, though I had to get out to it almost an hour earlier that when I was in elementary school. Stan, Kyle and Cartman were already at the stop. Cartman looked up at me, anxiety practically rolling off of him, probably because I didn't tell him my plan yet. Kyle didn't look at me, but muttered a 'oh hey Kenny,' and kept staring off into space.

There was one part of the plan that I had told Cartman and Kyle, and that was that we were not going to mention anything birthday related to Stan until we went out to dinner later. Stan was looking down the line, and by the expression on his face, I could tell that in fact no one had said anything to him yet. "Hi you guys," I said simply and took my place in line. Stan was almost the same height as Cartman, but didn't have as much muscle mass to him. He wore his ebony hair almost as unruly as mine, but much shorter.. his midnight blue eyes were still scanning down the line, and that look of disappointment was really starting to get to me.

Pretty soon the bus arrived, and carted our sorry asses to school. It wasn't all that much different from the elementary school, just a little bit bigger. Most of the same old crowd frequented there, and several people I used to go to school wither were in the majority of my classes, including Stan and Cartman. Kyle was one of the few who made it into some of the more advanced classes, along with Wendy. The day seemed to drag horribly, and I found myself continually looking up at the clock, as if expecting that by looking at it, it will tell me something new and different, or time would magically go faster. No such luck. By the time lunch rolled around, I was bored tired, and had a queasy feeling in my stomach.

I wasn't paying much attention when I was walking to the lunchroom, and didn't realize Cartman had come up behind me until he grabbed me by the shoulders to get my attention. I tried to whirl around and hit Cartman, but he held me fast.

"Whoa, chill dude," Kyle said, as I calmed down. I had always had a reputation of getting into unnecessary fights, probably because I was so jumpy and lashed out too easily. Luckily for Cartman, he is stronger than me, and one of the few guys who could keep me from doing much anyway.

"What's up?" I asked when Cartman let me go.

"We just wanna know what the plan is for tonight," Kyle said. "Neither one of us has said anything to Stan yet. Do you have everything set?"

"Ey, he better have everything set!" Cartman added in.

"Everything is cool guys. I stayed up 'til almost 4 this morning making sure everything will run smoothly tonight. And for a bonus, today is Thursday, which means Berny won't be there, so we probably won't even have to show id," I said, while producing the fake id's, "though just in case, of course. Oh, and just tell your parents that we're taking Stan out for his birthday, and going back to my place afterwards. ."

"Fuck that shit, I don't wanna go to yer house Kenny"

"We don't have to go to his place dumb ass." Kyle retorted.

"I don't really wanna go back to my place right now. All the utilities are off again, and it smells like something died. But guess what, the phones are off too, which means no calls to check up."

"Schweet"

"Now, can we get some lunch. I feel like I'm gonna pass out," I mutter, fighting off the dizziness. Lunch was really the only time of day I got a chance to eat any real food.

-----------------------

The rest of the day dragged. We had decided that we were going to go home like usual, and meet up again around 5 to go get dinner, and start the birthday celebration. That would give us enough time to get something to eat, anywhere Stan could possible want to go, hang out for a while, then head to the strip club after it got dark, which was never very late during October in South Park.

Kyle had volunteered to get Stan for dinner, and Cartman and I would wait at the bus stop for them before heading off. By the time the two of them showed up it was 5:13pm on my watch, and Cartman had been griping the past 20 some minutes before. I noticed Stan give Kyle a stupid look, then turned the same look to Cartman and me.

"So are you ready for your birthday fun to begin Stan?" I asked

---

-----

This looks like a good place to stop for now. Part 2 will be up soon. Hope you enjoyed so far


	2. Part 2

-----------------------

**South Park**

**Alcohol is Bad!**

(Kenny's POV)

_**Part 2**_

"_How do you see yourself?"_

_Well, that depends on what exactly you are looking for in an answer. See, on the outside, to other people, I look like just some poor kid who likes his porn too much and gets excited over the simplest things. I've been called a whore, slut, pervert, prostitute, poor sad sorry fuck. The list goes on really. But see what people don't realize is that I've got a plan, a dream and a drive. I don't plan to be the sorry sad fuck all my life. I do know one thing though, I don't see myself making the same mistakes the other sorry sad bastards in the McKormick line have made. . _

**Stan's Big Birthday Slash. . **_I mean_** Bash**

Stan's jaw dropped, "God damn you guys, I thought you forgot."

"Ok, that was my fault. I thought we should wait and keep the suspense up," I said, raising my hand slightly so I would be easier to single out.

"Son of a bitch," Stan said with a faint laugh.

"So, where do you want to go for food," Kyle asked

"Yeah, and none of them places that serve that vegan shit. I hate it," Cartman added in. "Shut up Cartman, this isn't your birthday." Oh, I could almost see the fight breaking out. No more than five minutes together, and Kyle looked ready to kill Cartman. Luckily, Stan interjected. "I want pizza you guys."

"Pizza it is then," I said cheerfully, before anyone had time to start arguing, and started walking towards the Pizza Shack.

Of all the crappy places he could have picked. Oh well, it was close, and cheap, plus the food was edible, and usually came in less than 45 minutes. And did I mention it was cheap? The place was a little run down, which was pretty usual for anyplace that ended up here. The cheap wall paper was peeling off the walls, and there was an unidentifiable odor about the place which reminded me of moldy cheese. Since Shakey's Pizza got closed down, this was the only pizza place in town.

Of course, there is no pleasing some people. "Why the hell did you have to choose this shithole!" Cartman voiced noisily, glaring at Stan from across the table. Stan only shrugged in reply. Despite being his birthday, I noted that he still looked pretty down. "I said no vegan, that doesn't mean I want crap." Cartman added, increasing his volume, as if the whole of South Park hadn't heard him already. I noticed a waitress was coming to our table, but at Cartman's outburst she turned and went back to the back again. I groaned softly and rested my head on my hand, staring at my friends in turn. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

"Cartman, you're gonna chase off anyone who might even venture to come over here is you don't shut your face. . fat ass." Kyle snorted, watching the waitress duck out of sight.

"Ey, Shut up you fuckin' Jew! You may be used to eattin' crap, but I sure as hell am not," Cartman yelled out, slamming his fist on the table. The sound caused me to flinch and dragged me out of me thoughts, which mostly revolved around what the girl was wearing under her skirt, and why there were waitresses at a pizza joint.

"Don't you dare start that shit again Cartman," Kyle snapped back, balling his fists, "I told you not to oppress my people!" Kyle was on his feet, or at least he was until Stan grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled the Jewish boy back down. That move seemed to come just in time, since it was in that moment one of the waitress girls got enough courage to brave the storm and come over.

"Hi boys, what can I get for you this evening?"

"Ah, it's about fuckin' time! I'll have two large meat lover pizzas with Coke."

"We only have Pepsi here sir. ."

"I said I wanna fuckin' Coke!"

"Cartman!"

"Oh yeah, and whatever these hippie losers want too."

"It's a wonder you aren't fat anymore Cartman," Kyle muttered low. "Ey!" "We gonna split you guys?"

"I'm all for that," I said.

"Fine, Stan?"

"Sure, large cheese and Pepsi for me."

"Pepsi for me too," I say.

"Diet Pepsi for me," Kyle added in, giving Cartman a venomous glare, to combat the smirk growing on the other teen's face.

The waitress scratched out the order, "it'll be about 15 minutes, I'll be right back with your drinks," she said and scurried off.

"Don't you even start Cartman, you know damn good and well I can't drink that stuff," Kyle said lowly.

Cartman put on his innocent face, "Why whatevah do you mean Kyle?"

"You guys chill before I kick both your asses," Stan muttered. Down and pissed, not a good combination, all I could hope for now was a boost of spirits when we hit the strip club. Cartman and Kyle were busy being silent and death glaring each other to oblivion.

I'd say the actual silence part lasted maybe a minute tops. I could already tell this was going to be a long 45 minutes until the food came.

Amazingly it only took them 40 minutes to get our food out to us, only 15 minutes for us to eat it all, and 10 minutes for us to get enough money put together to pay for it all. I could have cursed Cartman to an early grave and long trip to hell for as much as his crap cost. On second thought though, that would mean I would have to deal with him in the afterlife, and I frequented there far too often. He'd probably try to take over anyway.

We left, and made our way to the strip club.

"Kenny, you perverted little bastard," I heard Stan mutter from behind me when we arrived at our destination.

"You know it emo hippie," I said back. "Here's the other half of your birthday present from us. Think of it like one big sexy dancing birthday bash, the birthday to end all birthdays. Who knows, maybe you'll finally get laid," I said, then ducked to avoid the rock Stan had hurled at my head. "Or not?"

"'Emo hippie'. I gotta remember that," Cartman sneered

-------------------------

The strip club was alive with dancers and very intoxicated men. We took a table near the front, and immediately ordered a round of Sam Adams. As I had anticipated, the boss was out, and the new guy wasn't checking id's again. Lucky bastard hasn't got caught yet, not that I'm gonna say anything.

Hey, here's something I learned. Cartman can put away the booze, and not even flinch. I've personally seen him chug pro's under the table before. Kyle isn't much of a drinker unless he is with Stan, and even then, he's hard to get drunk. Me, I drink in moderation unless I'm out with Cartman, then we usually get into drinking duels, which embarrassingly enough usually end with me waking up in very strange places. There was one time about six months ago, I woke up in Mrs. Cartman's room. It took me months afterwards to drag it out of Cartman that I hadn't actually slept with his mother. Now Stan, Stan was like his dad, and couldn't get enough of it. He usually became very laid back, and very horny when under. Oh, and it only took a few to send him to happy land. Well, and there goes the third one. I could tell he wasn't really in it to start, but maybe a little alcohol running through his veins would loosen him up a bit.

"Hey Blondie, thought you were off tonight," one of the dancers said to me, leaning over the edge, and flashing me a wonderfully tantalizing open shot of her breasts.

"Birthday party," I answer with a smile, and hold up a $10 "think you got time later to give him a present for me Sweet Thing?"

"You know it," she said, adding some sugar to her already sweet voice, and allowed me to slip the $10 in her g-string, before giving me a quick butterfly kiss across my lips and eyeing Stan. The night was slow, and Stan had to have been one of the hotter guys there. She went over to him almost immediately and straddled him. Whoa, was that hot or what? She was giving him a wonderfully seductive ride, making me wish I was the birthday boy, too bad mine's not for a few months yet. Stan didn't seem as into it as I was though, and Kyle looked almost as wanting as I felt. Damn. Oh well, there was plenty of booze and stripper girls for everyone.

My eyes quickly settled on a sweet little fire dancing at the middle of the stage. She looked new and her breasts looked like a piece of heaven. It was mesmerizing how they moved, too bad she was so far away, otherwise I'd have to call on her for my own self . . . Ah! Cartman! Cartman had moved in my line of sight, and was blocking the view of my fiery angel, as well as interrupting my wonderfully perverted thought train. Damnit!

"Need to ask you somethin'" He said gruffly, and pulled me aside from the rest of the group. We sat across from each other at a table towards the back. I had just caught sight of my particularly foxy red haired girl as she started dancing with only a pink thong on again when Cartman grabbed my chin and diverted my broken attention back to him. "Are you gonna listen to me now or not?"

"Ok, I'm listening." I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I was forced to focus on Cartman, even though other parts of me were still thinking of other things.

"I want you to do me a favor. One which I'm sure you couldn't refuse. I couldn't help but notice your attentions to both Stan and Kyle lately. So, I am willing to give you a sum of one hundred dollar to go have some adult fun with our little birthday boy tonight." Cartman said, placing his hands together just under his chin, taking on a very professional, business type look.

"Wha. . wait, I'm not a stripper?" I gave Cartman a disgusted look The comment wasn't quite true, I had stripped here before on more than one occasion, and had performed some acts which I prayed Cartman never caught wind of. It was all in good fun, and some extra pocket money. Though honestly, with the suddenness of this, I had to wonder if he knew. I looked back at Stan and Kyle, and noticed Stan was throwing back yet another beer, adding to his collection of bottles on the table. Kyle was still on his second, his eyes transfixed on the cute blonde stripper girl he had been checking out earlier. "I mean, I don't know Cartman. He's a straight, **straight** arrow, and you know as well as I do I wouldn't mind getting it on with either one." I paused to think about what I was saying and look back at Cartman, who's grin was both widely innocent and deceiving at the same time. "he's drunk."

It was a well known fact amongst most people in South Park that I was perverted and the common rumor was that I would fuck anything with a hole. Nothing was confirmed of course. Cartman was the only person who knew for sure that I would be willing to swing both ways. Either way though, he was very homophobic about it when I ended up coming onto him several months ago. I was drunk! He nearly killed me before finally making me swear never to touch him again, which included a contract signed in blood. Then he forced me to confess that yes, I had been checking him, and several other guys, out like I do with chicks. Again, he nearly killed me. So why the hell was he practically begging me to go all the way with Stan of all people?

"Think about it Kenny. One hundred dollars. Not one girl here would turn that down, and last I checked, you **do **work here," Cartman said to me, looking me straight in the eyes with his serious I'm-up-to-shit look, and puppy dog eyes. "One hundred dollars to give one guy one simple lap dance. Nothing you haven't done before." He knew, damnit.

"Just once, and that won't change anything? I just gotta make it look good?"

"That's all. Simple, neh?"

I stood up, loosening the zipper of my hoodie, and turned to go work some magic. Who would have thought I would be working it on one of my better friends? "Oh, and one more thing, Kenny. Make sure to smile for the camera."

_Camera?_

---

-----

Tell meh whatcha all think, I love reviews ). Part 3 will be up soon. Hope you enjoyed so far. Should be getting into some of slashy pairing soon


	3. Part 3

-----------------------

**South Park**

**Alcohol is Bad!**

(Kenny's POV)

_**Part 3**_

"_Have you ever lusted after someone you shouldn't?"_

_You are asking me that? I mean, obviously, that's why I'm here right? I have issues, right? Well, I guess I've always been one to try everything at least once. Probably why I end up dying so much. At any rate, I suppose it would be lying to say my preferences are totally straight. I mean I do work in a strip club, and I do get off on almost anything. And it would be lying to say that I have not thought of sex with my friends. God, I hope they never hear this. . . if you really want to know, I personally think both Stan and Kyle have hot asses. . . Cartman's just a fat ass. . . 'sides, he's my best friend, I don't want to fuck him, it would be too weird. . . _

**Stan's Big Birthday Slash. . **_I mean_** Bash**

I took off my hoodie and set it in the chair I had occupied, and slipped my t-shirt off over my head, and picked up Cartman's beer. "One-hundred dollars. You got it on you?" I asked before stepping away from the table. He held it up in response, his grin growing just a bit wider. I nod and take a swig of his beer, and sauntered off to my target, smirking at Cartman, who wasn't all too happy with me for taking away his beer.

Kyle was getting it on with the blonde girl he had been flirting with earlier, or rather, she was giving him the lap-dance to end all lap-dances. I could have gotten off just watching them, but I had more important things to think about like one-hundred dollars.

Stan was so hammered, he didn't even notice me coming back towards his table. "Hey handsome," I said quietly, using the most seductive voice I could muster. Stan looked up at me with a faint smile, "Hi," he said finally. I moved around in front of him and straddled him, staring down into his eyes that were so intoxicated right now, I could almost swear he must be seeing a girl on his lap rather than yours truly. He ran a teasing finger along my naked chest, and I moved closer, my excitement growing, as I could feel his was too.

Stan's finger's laced through my hair as he pulled me closer, our lips only centimeters apart. I felt his hand drifting down along my back as he drew me in and our lips met. It was only brief, tentative and experimental, but electrifying just the same. His lips were different from any girls lips I've kissed, probably because it lacked any sort of lip balm, and they were drier, and not as full. I moved forward again, catching his mouth in a more full kiss, gently prodding at his mouth with my tongue until he let me in. He tastes like the beer he had been drinking, and something else I didn't recognize. I moved slightly, pressing my hips to his, eliciting a deep moan from deep in his throat. The hand he had drifting along my back found my ass and stayed there. He responded by returning the motion rather than throwing me off. My God, was he good at this! And here I was thinking I would get killed, pounded, or at least be dry humping someone a little more reluctant.

I rocked my hips in turn with him, his hand firmly on my ass. Soft moans, and murrs of excitement came between us as we moved together. The thought of doing this without the nagging clothing that prevented us from touching was freely rolling through my perverted mind, and I was only faintly aware of what was happening around me. I reached down, my hand traveling across the front of Stan's pants, causing him to hiss with pleasure as I pressed down, massaging the lump that was present there while still rocking. I also wondered if it would be wrong to suggest getting a room.

"Mmm, Kyle?" Stan moaned softly, his blurry blue eyes settling on mine.

I blinked, "Kyle?"

Stan's eyes widened a little as he focused on me, studying my face as though it were some sort of alien thing. "Kenny," he finally murred softly.

"Kenny! What the hell are you doing?" Stan and I both looked up at Kyle, who looked both disgusted and thoroughly pissed off. I swear, his face was almost the same shade of red as his hair! "Get off of him now!"

I obeyed reluctantly, pulling myself from Stan's embrace. "Dude, it's not what you think," I started, but was cut off by a punch to the face.

-------------------------

Cartman was walking to my left, looking over his digital camera, "that was fucking schweet Kenny. You wouldn't believe how fuckin' schweet it was, 'cause your poor little mind can't comprehend it."

"Tell that to my bruised ribs, and swollen eye," I muttered softly, though my words were lost in his ranting. Kyle, evidentially, went all psycho on my ass. I couldn't really remember, my head was hurting too much to think straight. Cartman had told me though that as soon as I had gotten away from Stan, 'Kyle jumped me, and beat the shit outta me'. I believe it, every part of me ached, and I was pretty convinced he kicked me in the nuts at least once.

". . . and now I have the perfect start to my website!" I heard Cartman finish off, and I looked over at him. "What website?"

"Website? Who said anything about a website?"

"You did Cartman, what website." I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Oh it's nothing more than a page of stuff. . that will eventually lead to ten million dollars!" he boasted, grinning proudly.

"Ok, go on," I said.

"Ok, fine. Listen, I found a goldmine on the internet, a sure fire way of getting all kinds of money really quick."

"E-bay?"

"No, better than E-bay. Chicks."

"Chicks on the internet? Dude, it's called porn."

"No, no, no, no, no. Just shut your cock-suckin' mouth and listen to meh hnyeah."

I shut up and stared back at him for a moment before he stared again. "Money from chicks. I found out chicks dig porn just as much as guys. So, I created a web site to give them just that. Sick-fetish male porn!"

"What?" I yelled out.

"I said shut up and listen! I figure, if they want it, I might as well give those hoes something to get hot for. And the best part is, they can't get it unless they pay me to get into the site!"

I stared at him, "that's sick dude. . sick and wrong. You shouldn't have to pay for porn."

"Oh, but you do. You know you do. Oh, and I already have some kick ass web shots to put up on the site," he added, holding up the camera.

"You're going to put that online?"

"You bet yer schweet ass I am!" Cartman boasted.

"I'm gonna kill you Cartman!" I yelled and launched myself at him. He moved effortlessly out of the way and took off across the street for his house. I got up out of the snow and took off after him, but half way across the street, I was nearly blinded by bright white lights, and I froze. The last thought to pass through my mind as the snow plow ran me over was that Cartman still owed me one hundred dollars.

---

-----

Part 4 will be up soon! Let me know what you think!


	4. Part 4

-----------------------

**South Park**

**Alcohol is Bad!**

(Kyle's POV)

_**Part 4**_

"_Would you ever consider taking back what you have done?"_

_Well. . . there have been a lot of thing I would take back. All the times I tried to hurt my little brother, or all those times I allowed myself to be conned by Cartman. If you are talking about my choices in friends though, I would have to say there isn't a thing anyone could offer me to take back anything that I have experienced with him. Nope, not a thing. He's my best friend and I hope that never changes. _

**Stan's Big Birthday Slash. . **_I mean_** Bash**

"God damnit!" I yelled out. A quick glare over my shoulder proved that Cartman was with that sick bastard Kenny, and they looked very much like they had no intentions of following us. I looked back at Stan, who had a goofy grin plastered on his face. He was swaying a bit and I seriously doubted he had even the slightest clue of what had just happened. Either that or he really didn't care. I frowned and quickened my pace, leaving the strip club far behind us before striking up any sort of conversation.

"So, how 'bout them Broncos," Stan said rather cheerfully.

"Huh?" I asked, "They've been on a losing streak."

Stan frowned and looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and then he tripped over his own two feet. He crashed into me and sent the both of us to the ground. He moved to get off, but rather than actually get off and brush the whole thing aside, he pinned me to the cold ground. I heard him purr my name and I struggled a little. "Stan, come on dude, let me up," I said. Too bad he's bigger than me.

He smiled down at me, then finally moved and helped me up. That was about when I realized how turned on I was. I blushed, and thanked God that he was too drunk to really notice though. We continued walking in silence until we reached his house. "Whoa dude, I can't go in there. I think I'm still a little loopy."

"Just a little Stan? I think you're down right drunk." I said with a snicker.

"Come wait with me in the club house 'til I sober up some," he answered as he was shuffling off to the old tree in the back of his house. I followed, shaking my head slightly. The clubhouse was amazingly still standing. For the most part we only ever went up there if we wanted to talk in private, away from nosey ears that belonged to parents, sisters, or manipulative sons of bitches named Cartman. Stan climbed up the ladder first, then I followed. I was amazed the thing didn't break under our weight. Stan was already seated in his spot, staring back at me in a daze. "Yeah, you're pretty drunk dude. You're turning into your dad," I said with a laugh. He only flipped me off.

"Hey Stan," I said after a few moments, "Do you even have the faintest idea why Kenny was doing what he was tonight?"

"What was Kenny doing?" Stan asked back.

"He was!" I started, "he was giving you a fucking lap-dance. God! If I hadn't have stepped in you two would have probably been butt buddies by the end of the night!" I sputtered out, then winced inwardly at the tone in which my words came out.

"Hey Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"Truth or dare?"

"What?"

"Truth or dare?" Stan repeated

"Uh, I don't know. Dare?" I asked uncertainly. I gasped out when Stan suddenly leaned forward, grasped my head in his left hand and pulling me into a rather tentative but sensual kiss. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before he let go and sat back, his deep blue eyes locked on me. I stared back in disbelief. Of all the wrong, gay things that I have ever seen or heard of, this was the first I had experienced first hand. Naturally I would think if something like this had happened to me, I would be offended, appalled. I would probably want to strangle whoever did it, but no, all I could think about was how good it felt, and how turned on I was getting.

I blushed, and Stan must have noticed it, because he edged just a bit closer, a worried look in his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered, "don't be mad. It was an accident." I blinked. He was so close to me again. "It. . it's ok Stan," I said softly, "It was nothing. ."

"Yeah, nothing," he said, his voice breathy. Then he reached out and kissed me again with more passion and less hesitation. I found myself kissing back.

After a moment, I found myself in the midst of a rather intense make-out session with my best friend. He had laid me out on the wooden planks of the floor, his body half covering mine as our lips met, and tongues dueled. He slid his hand down my torso, and the up into my shirt, his fingertips brushing my chest and flicking at my nipples. I gasped softly, raking my hands along his back, and sliding them down the front of his jeans. He moaned as I brushed against his hidden erection, and pressed against my exploring hand, begging for more. He hissed with pleasure when I began massaging him, and unzipping his pants. As soon as I was in, I ran my fingertip along his hardened shaft, eliciting moans and soft whines from him. He pressed against my hand as I took hold of him more firmly and began stroking him slowly. His kisses became more urgent, and he was practically panting on my lips.

Suddenly there was a loud crash as a few boards came loose from the ceiling and fell around us. "Aw shit," I yelled out, pulled out of my haze of pleasure by a wood plank that fell very close to my head. I released Stan and tried to shimmy away from him.

"Don't stop," he whined, then winced as he was pulled out of his out of his lustful state abruptly by some wood falling on his head. "God damnit!" he yelled out and pulled himself to his feet. "Let's get out of here," he said and scrambled for the exit. I got to my feet too and followed. Stan was almost to the ground when the structure fell out of the tree around us, covering us with debris and forcing us both to jump to the ground below.

"Woah," Stan said in disbelief. I heard the soft sound of a zipper, and glanced at Stan out of the corner of my eye as he was straightening his jeans over a rather sizable lump in front. I looked away back towards his house. "Well, I guess we better go inside," Stan said and turned back to the house, "You coming?"

-------------------------

No one in Stan's house seemed to have been woken up by the sounds of the tree house crashing to the ground, for which we were both grateful. We picked our way silently to Stan's room in the dark and slipped inside. He closed the door with a sigh and I flopped down on the bed.

After a second of listening intently at the door, Stan came over and joined me. He looked down at me and in the faint light I could tell he was smiling. "We can mourn the old tree house tomorrow. I'm surprised it was still standing after all it's been through."

"I think it was because we finally added the nails a few years ago," I pointed out, and we both laughed.

Stan started to speak, but I hushed him with my finger, then pulled him down over me and replaced it with my lips. He paused for a second, then started kissing back. I felt his hand on my inner thigh and I gasped as his drifted upwards until he was pressing his hand against me. I let out a loud moan, which was only stifled by his kisses as he unzipped my pants and started playing with me.

After a few moments, I had lost most of my clothing and Stan was completely naked, except for his poof ball hat. Our hands were drifting and roaming across regions we never would have openly thought about even seeing, much less groping and jacking. Nearly an hour and a half passed, and both of us had played each other to exhaustion. Stan was lying on his back, his arms behind his head and was staring at the ceiling, and I was curled up at his side, my left arm across his waist. I felt so tired, but somehow complete, as if this was something I had been waiting for, for a long, long time.

---

-----

Part 5 will be up soon! Let me know what you think!


End file.
